The Regressed Princess - Chapter 38

Chapter 38: The Fork in the Road; Before I Get a Headache, You Repent First!

Before I get a headache, you repent first!

Eleanor jumped down from the carriage and aimed a flying kick straight at her sister.

“Whoa-ho!” Miscella yelped and hopped away, flailing her arms and playing at “bastard boxing” with her sister.

“Alright, alright, stop fooling around.” Eleanor kicked a couple more times without landing a blow, then huffily grabbed Miscella’s arm and pulled her toward the garden.

“Don’t follow us.” She looked back, and the attendants all stopped. Only Coral and Andra took a few uneasy steps forward, watching from a distance.

Eleanor caught a glimpse from the corner of her eye and shook her head inwardly: not a single one of Miscella’s lackeys had followed.

She only now realized that her sister, the Crown Princess, had almost no capable attendants.

By rights, every Royal Daughter should have a few high-born companions; they would be natural allies and followers in the future.

But Miscella’s playmates were ordinary in both talent and will; none of them looked reliable.

Eleanor’s grip on her sister’s wrist relaxed. She suddenly remembered the Miscella of her past life.

Her sister had possessed that same “I don’t care about anything” look back then.

She had ridden her horse, gripped her blade, and sloppily gotten swept into a sudden war, only to die in obscurity.

How long had she trained her troops back then? Was that army a force given by their mother before her death, or one partitioned out afterward? Or perhaps a passionate sponsorship from some Great Noble?

Eleanor knew none of these details.

Back then, she had fled the capital in a hurry. As for later—what army in the world could possibly compare to the legions under Andra’s command?

Miscella entering the battlefield was like a drop of water falling into the ocean; with a tiny drip, she vanished without a trace.

Aside from Andra’s consoling remark. “Your sister did have some talent for combat; she was very courageous” no one had cared about Miscella’s actual performance.

Eleanor let go of her hand and walked silently toward the garden.

Miscella had been twisting about trying to avoid being dragged, but the moment her sister let go, she panicked and chased after her, shouting “Ahhh!”

Eleanor sat down against the railing of the gazebo. Miscella flopped down beside her, leaning her shoulder against her sister and pulling her into a tight hug.

“Alright, alright, why are you so angry.” She pulled a small ball sewn from cowhide out of her tunic and slapped it into Eleanor’s hand.

“The weather is nice today. Let’s go play ball together?”

The hearty youth grinned, showing two rows of white teeth. Eleanor couldn’t help but smile at her carefree manner. How nice it must be to be young and ignorant of sorrow.

Why did we fight last time?

She toyed with the small leather ball in her palm, her nose feeling a bit stingy.

It was she who had used the tone of an elder to lecture Miscella, forcing a “duck-stuffing” style analysis upon her. Regardless of whether Miscella was willing, she had forced her to follow steps one-two-three, four-five-six.

That was likely why the child had exploded in front of their mother.

She felt wronged; she wanted someone’s recognition, and she wanted to rebel against the seemingly unnecessary pressure I was placing on her.

Eleanor set the leather ball aside and held her sister’s hand. “Sister, let’s talk.”

“Sure, talk about what?” Miscella patted her chest happily. “How about you ask me where the fun spots are? Cockfighting is very popular in the city lately!”

“Don’t go gambling.”

Eleanor bit her lip and swallowed the lecture. She deliberated for a moment and then asked tentatively, “Sister, do you really want to be King?”

What kind of question is that?

Miscella’s eyes went wide. A few seconds later, she nodded so vigorously she almost left an afterimage.

“Of course! I’m going to be a super great King! I want everyone to call me Anya!”

She gestured wildly with her hands, her eyes sparkling.

“I want to ride a beautiful, beautiful white horse whiter than yours, the kind that sparkles and shines in the sun~”

“No matter the enemy, I’ll cut them down with one stroke. I’ll be victorious in every battle. Every time I return, the ministers and citizens will line the streets to welcome me, scattering perfume and roses wherever I pass.”

Eleanor fell silent for a moment.

She wanted to refute her sister’s overly “simple” ideas, yet Andra had achieved every single one of those details.

She asked softly, “Sister, do you want to be King to protect everyone, or do you want to protect everyone so you can be King? Is combat a joy to you, or a means to an end?”

“Uh…” Miscella stalled. She hissed and said, “It’s mutual! I’ll definitely protect the people who love and respect me. As for fighting… it’s actually quite fun.”

Her answer had flaws, but in this era, it wasn’t too bad.

Fairly speaking, it was already rare for a ruler in a feudal era to subscribe to the idea that “I need to protect the people.”

Even Andra, in a drunken moment of self-indulgence, had told her: “It’s lucky Hetuya has so many people and so much land, otherwise where would I get the support for my expeditions?”

What exactly does a sovereign’s love contain? It’s probably happier not to know.

However, her sister’s situation was completely different from Andra’s. The difference wasn’t just in talent.

Eleanor felt bitter inside as she looked at her high-spirited sister.

If her deduction in the carriage was correct, unless Miscella gave up her position as Crown Princess, she would eventually be killed by Eva.

Her sister’s current position was like a stepping stone in a novel; when the time came, she would be crushed under Ophelia’s foot.

Eleanor had already thought of a way out for Miscella: to retreat to Enlin with her for the time being.

Although it was default that the youngest legitimate daughter was the heir, the King still held the final decision-making power.

A willful King like Eva should be able to be willful once more for Ophelia’s sake—why must she take Miscella’s life?

The biggest difficulty with this survival route was that she needed to completely convince Miscella. If her sister showed even a hint of reluctance in front of Eva, the entire plan would fail instantly.

Eleanor waited for Miscella to finish her jumping around and continued her questioning: “Sister, being King is very hard. A King needs to study hard and handle government affairs. Do you like handling government affairs?”

As expected, Miscella’s brow knit into a massive scowl. It took her a long time to pout and argue, “Mother plays all day, doesn’t she?”

Eleanor bumped her head gently.

“Mother worked very hard before she ascended. Not only did she repel the Hetuyans, but she was also very close with many scholars. It’s said she wrote books when she was young and was considered one favored by the Goddess of Wisdom.”

“Sigh~” Miscella let out a long sigh, covering her ears and curling into a ball in the gazebo.

Just as Eleanor thought her sister was going to act like a brat, Miscella suddenly lowered her hands and looked into the distance with a wistful gaze.

“Lily, a person only has one lifetime.”

“Mm.”

Eleanor nodded, then suddenly froze.

Such an answer would be normal on Earth, but it didn’t fit the objective facts of the Moon Mist Continent.

Everyone who dies in this world returns to the Blood River to wait for the next reincarnation. How could there be only one lifetime?

She hugged Miscella’s shoulder to comfort her. “Don’t worry, there is reincarnation. The stories say the Great Mother Goddess will lift the good people from the Blood River and grant them a happy second life~”

Miscella nodded and then shook her head. She said firmly, “No, then that wouldn’t be me.”

The naive youth looked up and said seriously to her mature sister, “I don’t have memories of a past life, so the ‘me’ of the next life is just a stranger who has nothing to do with me.”

“She might be called Semila, or Lamise. In any case she isn’t me, and she can’t finish my life for me.”

Eleanor blinked, feeling strangely gratified.

That’s good. It turns out my sister isn’t stupid; her thoughts are quite philosophical for this world.

Since that was the case why not help her?

Eleanor looked into her sister’s sparkling eyes and suddenly made up her mind.

She finally realized that she had actually been trapped in the emotions of her past life and hadn’t truly appreciated the power of the pendant.

The ability granted by the Mother Goddess wasn’t just 36 chances to reset; it was at most six lives that could be started over from the beginning.

She was willing to give Andra a chance for them to let each other go.

She was willing to give Ophelia a chance for them to have nothing to do with each other.

Then why couldn’t she give her sister one more chance to rush toward the peak?

Besides, all three of these matters were condensed into a single petal. No matter what caused the final three red marks to disappear, it wouldn’t be a waste.

“Lily, your smile is so ugly.” Miscella turned back, her hair standing on end from her sister’s smile.

Eleanor stood up and pulled her sister up with her. “Fine! Since you want to be King you have to listen to me!”

Miscella laughed at her. “Hahaha! Bragging! What do you know?”

“I don’t know how to make you a great King, but I know how to prevent Ophelia from replacing you.”

Seeing her sister mention Ophelia, Miscella immediately became agitated. “She can’t replace me!”

Eleanor narrowed her eyes. She raised a finger to her lips and whispered, “That’s right. But in Mother’s heart, you are the replacement.”

Her voice was tiny, yet it struck Miscella like a heavy whip.

The volatile girl was about to jump up when her sister stood on tiptoe and pressed her hands down on her shoulders.

Eleanor spoke slowly into her ear in a low voice.

“I’ve been getting close to Mother precisely to figure this out. Sister, think about it. Mother neither assigns you capable manpower nor lets you lead the army. Even the jobs where you get to show your face are very, very few.”

Miscella fell silent, her eyes filled with anxiety and fear.

Eleanor nodded silently in her heart.

As expected, this is the correct way to break the deadlock.

The reason Miscella dared to act out in front of their mother was that she trusted her; she felt that as long as she made a scene, Eva would grant her requests.

The sister’s trust in the mother was originally greater than her trust in her younger sister.

But this trust wasn’t born from deep affection; it was because Eva held a high status and naturally occupied the role of Mother.

So, as long as Miscella was forced to notice the facts she had deliberately forgotten, that illusory trust in her heart would completely collapse.

Miscella asked hesitatingly, “Did Mother say something to you? Does she… not want me to be the Crown Princess?”

The child’s voice grew lower and lower.

The two of them stood hand-in-hand in the gazebo.

Eleanor spoke in a highly provocative tone: “Mother actually favors Ophelia very much. Her affection is practically baseless; it has nothing to do with whether you are strong or not.”

“Why? Ophe—” Miscella shouted, her composure breaking. Eleanor quickly covered her mouth.

She used her other hand to pat her sister’s back soothingly, whispering, “I don’t know. Regardless, Mother intends to treat you as her stepping stone. If she truly intended for you to succeed, she would have sent Ophelia to a territory long ago.”

“Then… then what should I do?” The true child quickly lost her strength, large tears overflowing from her eyes. Miscella didn’t even have a single person she could properly consult with; she knew this very well herself.

“Retreat to advance,” Eleanor’s tone became increasingly firm.

“Mother is currently too lazy to bother with the ministers and she needs you to take the blows for Ophelia, so she won’t issue a decree to abolish you. But if you continue to stay in the capital, you will only be suppressed to death by her.”

“By then, she will spread word everywhere that you are useless, then build up momentum for Ophelia. Everyone will think she is much stronger than you!”

Leave the capital?

Miscella fell into a dilemma.

She was terrified of the future her sister described, but if she left the capital for a long time—wouldn’t she fade from everyone’s sight?

Eleanor saw the hesitation in her eyes and struck while the iron was hot. “Don’t worry, we can go to Enlin. That is my territory. As the Crown Princess, you naturally have the right to recruit a legion and train an army… why wait idly for the King’s pity?”

Miscella’s expression showed she was tempted. She asked timidly, “Will Mother agree?”

Most likely yes. Eva’s time is running out; she probably can’t wait for Miscella to get lost so Ophelia can occupy that position more naturally without her having to bicker with the ministers.

Eleanor did not disclose this. She was like a fallen angel, whispering in Miscella’s ear.

“It’s the perfect way to test her! How old is our mother this year? She could live for several more decades~ Are you really going to waste your youth staying in the capital fighting to the death with Ophelia over things that won’t happen for decades?”

A few minutes later, Miscella was completely convinced by her sister.

She bounced up and down in excitement in the gazebo, saying loudly, “Let’s go find Mother right now!” She looked ready to run to Enlin immediately to show off her skills.

“Mm.” Eleanor solemnly took Miscella’s hand.

This time, her sister held her hand firmly as well.

A lifetime and a moment apart, Eleanor stood before the heavy curtains once again.

With a slight flutter of her skirt, the oil lamps were lit one by one. Miscella followed obediently behind, her soles making a crisp clack-clack sound.

When Eleanor entered, she happened to see a scantily clad beauty lifting the curtain to leave from behind.

Why didn’t I see this concubine last time?

Oh right, the timing is slightly different.

They hadn’t chased each other and argued outside this time, saving a lot of time.

Eleanor didn’t pay much attention to the passing concubine. She cast her gaze toward her mother, who was reclining on the long couch.

Eva looked drowsy and bleary-eyed, appearing as if she had just been woken by the announcement.

“Mother.” Eleanor bowed obediently.

“Mm.” Eva’s smile did not reach her eyes.

She hadn’t yet let her loyal servant report on Eleanor’s movements, but she could guess that a certain assassin’s attempt had utterly failed.

Eleanor took small steps, still dragging her sister Miscella along, as the two children arrived at her side with a pitter-patter.

“Mother, I’ve made up my mind.”

The daughter looked up, her amber eyes meeting hers. “I—want to take my sister with me to Enlin.”

“Oh… what? Hahahaha! You two really are… really interesting!” Eva looked up in shock, then couldn’t help but clutch her stomach and laugh wildly.

Seeing her mother’s reaction, Miscella’s heart turned cold.

If Mother truly wanted her to be the Crown Princess, she should have scolded her younger sister at this moment. But Mother was laughing so hard she was doubled over; clearly, she loved this topic.

“It’s like this, Mother.”

Eleanor was not affected by Eva’s reaction. She said matter-of-factly, “I went back and thought about it carefully. Although a manor is very good, my own territory is larger than a manor. I will build it up better and send you many gifts every year.”

Eva finished laughing, making no move to wipe the tears that didn’t exist at the corners of her eyes.

She clutched her stomach and asked, “Then why do you want to take your sister with you?”

Eleanor tilted her head innocently. “Because I’m still small; I need my sister to go and keep me company.”

Eva was choked by this sentence.

Isn’t that right? A princess this small certainly doesn’t have a Prince Consort.

Those minor officials are no different from servants; how could she possibly hand over real resources to the noble clans?

Eva instinctively felt suspicious; this mysterious little princess before her had surpassed the abilities she should possess. Clearly, she had other plans in her heart.

But no matter how she questioned them, the two daughters showed no flaws, appearing as if they truly just wanted to go to Enlin.

If it were any other city-state, Eva would have some hesitation.

Sending the “Crown Princess” away who knows if it would cause a war of succession in a few years? With Ophelia’s ability, she’d have a hard time even if she held the capital.

But then again, if these two children could truly pull together a force from a godforsaken place like Enlin that could storm the capital, what would it matter if she abdicated to someone more worthy?

“Alright.”

Since she decided to give in, Eva agreed generously. “Once you’ve finished tidying up the manor, go there and play.”

Eleanor promised gently, “Yes, Mother. I will manage Enlin and your manor well.”

“Mm.”

Eva was very tired. After signing the orders, she waved her hand for the two daughters to withdraw.

“Come here.” At her call, a loyal attendant approached like a shadow and began to recount the events that happened at the slave market today.

“What? You say that little thing Eleanor actually extorted a thousand well-trained combat slaves?!” The King’s voice rose.

Her first instinct was to call Eleanor back and make her hand over those thousand trophies, but then she thought of what she had just signed.

Heh, so that’s how it is.

The desire to reclaim the army died in Eva’s heart, replaced by a secret expectation.

Since you are so clever, let me see how far you can go.

Eleanor.

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